


Shattered Dreams

by OliviaThomas



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Kidnapping, Misogyny, Original Fiction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicidal Thoughts, domestic abuse, forced gender roles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaThomas/pseuds/OliviaThomas
Summary: A college girl finds herself in a perilous situation with a dangerous man. She had hopes, she had dreams, she had career goals, she had a loving perfect boyfriend and all that is coming to an end..Can she find a way to escape before all her sanity is lost?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	1. A New Life

**Author's Note:**

> This work has misogyny and non-con situations. The main male character in this work is mentally unstable and it will not be used to excuse his abuses. I don't condone any of his actions. However, considering that the subject matter can be very triggering, please tread with care. You've been warned.

Caroline closed her blue eyes and recollected the events which led her to this very dark room; _Dark ales… empty bottles… Alec's tipsy smile… laughing like it was just the two of them… dancing like there was no tomorrow….a preppy young woman handing the bill… the cool wind… Alec's warm kiss…. a black car to take her home… a driver with a head full of dark hair… that's all she could remember._

Her head throbbed. She brought two gentle fingers to massage her temples and soothe the pain, moving them in a circular motion. A feeling of nausea swept her. From what she'd read, this combination of nausea and headaches was an indication of migraines. But, she rarely got migraines, even after hangovers. It must've been the heavy drinking. It would explain the fragmented memories as well. She wondered if she was drugged further, or she solely had an alcohol-induced blackout. She supposed the way of it didn't matter now.

The blonde surveyed the room, using her hands as an aid to judge the location and distance of the walls through the disquieting darkness. After a while, she concluded it was the size of a broom closet, perhaps somewhat larger, but the space was still tight and the realization of it made her feel claustrophobic. There were no windows and the single door, surely, had to be locked. With a hand on each side of the parallel walls, she pushed herself up, taking it easy and slow. Her lips parted to call out for somebody before closing it and suppressing a laugh- recalling how Alec and her made fun of those horror movies they used to watch all night together. The ones were the victims would give away their whereabouts by shouting who is there. Whoever, whatever kidnapped her didn't seem to know she regained consciousness. But, the door had to be locked...

Caroline padded the door, looking for the handle. She felt a curved smooth structure then push down, the door opened with ease. It made her doubt if there was a genuine intention as it made no sense to go this far and leave the door unlocked. She moved out of the cursed place and took a heavy breath. Her eyes tried to adjust to the fluorescent lights as she analyzed the new room she stepped into. Alternating colours of pink and purple decorated the place. A queen-sized bed was in the center. There were no windows but two doors with one leading into the closet she just came out of and another to what it seemed to be a narrow hallway. With hesitant steps, Caroline approached the bed as she'd noticed some of her stuff on the top of the velvet sheet. A shaky hand picked up her cellphone and tried with desperation to turn the phone back on. It didn't have any scratches on, but the screen remained blank. She pocketed it and made a mental note to find a way to charge it back up away. Then, she approached her wallet and opened it to a sight of empty cardholders except for one. But, it wasn't a credit card occupying the space but rather a piece of thin paper. Trying to keep her composure, she took out the paper and unfolded it, curious about the content.

_ Afternoon, cutie. You don't need your own money anymore. Your loving husband will buy you everything you want from now on! Only if you're good of course… it's a fair trade. Don't you agree? _

Caroline couldn't help but frown. She entertained the thought of a practical joke from Alec but this wasn't his writing style, nor would he be thoughtless enough to put her in an uncomfortable closet. Alec had a distinguished and beautiful cursive handwriting; she would always cherish it as much as the content of the love poems he sent. This writing was not in cursive, but it also lacked the eloquence of Alec- both in appearance and content. Moreover, Alec loved her independence and would never take her money away, even as a joke. They always split the bill. Nothing right now made any shred of sense. For certainty, she looked at her pale fingers to check for a ring and, thankfully, found none. She could check off a Las Vegas-like wedding, at least. Looking ahead into the hallway, she decided the best course of action was to explore a way out and find out more about the peculiar situation she found herself in.

The wooden floor creaked under her as she made her way through the rest of the rooms. The living room had two simple white couches. To the left of them was a dining table for two with a vase and a single rose place in it. She gathered it was basement of some sort- the size of a small apartment. There was also a kitchen, though it looked clean, it lacked life as if it was never really used but recently tidied-up and organized…The place sent chills down her spine, and she wasn't sure why. The note was her only indication as to why she was here. Was it a joke from her friends? She already eliminated her boyfriend as the culprit. Or perhaps it was a mistake? Maybe the kidnapper meant to go after someone else and mistook her for them. Of course, it wasn't right either way, but she couldn't be a little selfish now as she felt her survival chances slip away. All her heart told her was she needed to get out fast; this was no joke and she was in danger. Despite the eerie calm, something was not right. Something was not…

Seeing a flight of stairs out of the basement, she climbed them, ten steps up and five steps to the left, until she met with a door with no handle which covered from the ceiling to the floor. With all her might, she tried to make the door budge. Her knuckles were coloured a rough shade of red as her hands pushed as much force as she could. But to no avail, for it was sealed tight. She tried to catch her breath as her mind had many thoughts per second. No, she couldn't give up. Out of desperation, she kicked the door. Kicked it repeatedly while pushing as much as her skinny body allowed- she was nowhere near an athlete in fitness, but adrenaline was a power everyone had had in times of deep trouble. She kicked and hit until her feet felt numb, her sneakers had dents in the front, and her hands were bruised. She didn't stop until she heard the roaring engines of a car coming to a halt.


	2. The Kidnapper

**_One year ago…_ **

_The beautiful sunset painted the sky with varying sheds of red, yellow, and orange- saying its farewell to the city for the day. A tinge of sadness formed in the heart of the blonde; for just as the warmth of the sun came to an end, so did she sense the presence of her boyfriend coming to an end. But, in the depths of her mind, she understood they must return to their parents before suspicions arose too high._

_The man with the caramel-coloured long hair and warm brown eyes used his long fingers to comb the teen’s golden hair as she lay her head softly on his lap. If she could sell her soul to savour this moment for eternity, she would. Reality was a cruel mistress._

_“My biggest fear is to live like I'm dead,” Caroline said, more to herself but she was sure Alec heard it. She felt a warm kiss on her forehead, making her stomach fill with flutters. Despite kissing and engaging in intimate acts many times with her boyfriend, Caroline’s body still jolted to the slightest touches of Alec. She tilted her head and looked into his soulful eyes, and saw a deep sadness for their situation. She hated it; she didn’t want to see him sad. She cursed herself for even bringing it up and ruining the perfect fairy tale moment._

_“Same.” He sympathized, nodding slowly. “Many people are alive but how many of them live?_

_Caroline let her eyes fall as she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s just enjoy this moment.”_

_Alec gave a reassuring smile, a smile that made her feel safe and said everything was going to be all right. “We must cast them out of our minds; otherwise, we become dead as well, Cara.” Alec kissed her again, this time on her soft pink lips. It was a quick peck but when their lips touched, it felt like a long time. It was like a higher octane of love where their souls intertwined. This love they had was beyond the material world, Caroline thought. Her father always mocked the fact that she was such a hopeless romantic. The fact that her head was in the clouds. The fact that Alec’s family wasn’t good enough for her. But, frankly, she didn’t care about his opinion regarding this matter. Alec was her soulmate, and she will not be convinced otherwise. She was willing to go to war to keep him and looking into Alec’s eye, it told her he would do the same. It brought tears of joy to her deep blue eyes._

_“Then, let’s enjoy this moment.” She took his hand and guided it to her right breast. Alec’s cheeks took on a deep crimson red shade. Alec always had an open face, and Caroline often joked that he would be the worst poker player in the world. But, it was a feature that Caroline adored. The honesty, the truthfulness, the genuineness. His hand gave her breast a gentle squeeze and her back took on a slight arch at the touch._

_It was going all so well, again, until a sudden unwelcome shiver electrified her body. Somebody was watching them through the trees, her intuition told her and she trusted her intuition. She could feel malicious eyes wishing harm on them both. She almost asked Alec if he had this peculiar feeling as well. But, she ignored her gut feeling in an uncharacteristic moment, waving it as a fabrication of the mind- strongly bent on preserving the present moment. This moment will not turn to ashes. If this person was real and wanted to harm them then they will die together. Till death do us part._

….She didn’t stop until she heard the roaring engines of a car coming to a halt. Caroline froze. Tiny goosebumps formed all over her body and she wanted to throw up, though she hadn’t eaten for a while. _It was going to be all right_ , she tried to reason through the sinking feeling. The man must have some decency given the evidence. He didn’t restrict her body in any way, and the closet door remained unlocked. Nor was she physically hurt or tortured. It was apparent he meant her no real harm, right? All she had to do was explain to him that he mistook her for his wife. Maybe it was all an innocent roleplaying scenario, and he captured the wrong person. Was he so blind that he didn’t recognize his wife up close? Perhaps he had partial blindness. Caroline slammed the door, frustrated at how many logical hoops she must jump through as the story got sillier with every explanation. Worse, her intuition, that same intuition that urged her to get out and try to break the door, screamed this was a targeted kidnapping, and she was the correct target. He made no mistake here.

Taking a full deep breath, she tried to soothe her mind and body. She must be tranquil even if it made no sense to be so at such dire times. The situation would become worse if she weren’t calm. Feeling light-headed, she went down the basement stairs and took comfort on the white couch. She didn’t force her eyes to close, but let them fall gently in place. Then, she turned her focus to removing every pain she was feeling: The pain in her toes, the pain in her fingers, the pain in her back, the pain in her head, and worst of all: the pain in her heart wondering when she will see Alec again… Her heart ached as she felt hopeless at trying to keep a peace of mind. _No, he would want you to forget._ _Forget where you are now. Forget all your troubles. Imagine a peaceful place._ She took another full deep breath and restarted the self-therapy:

_She imagined a place where there was no predator or prey. Where the lion played with the rabbit and the rabbit played with the lion. The lion did not wish to eat the rabbit and the rabbit did not wish to flee. Caroline watched them from afar with a big smile. The rabbit hopped around the field and the lion chased after it. When the lion tagged the rabbit, the roles were reversed. Now, it was the rabbit’s turn to go after the lion. It was humorous to watch a big beast run away from a little rabbit, but it seemed like they were playing a game of tag. This went on for five rounds, but during the sixth round something was off with the lion. There was a spark in his eyes that she did not see before. He looked at the rabbit with blood-lust eyes, and after he tagged the rabbit, the rabbit ceased to move._

_“What happened to your hands?” A sharp voice intruded._

Caroline awoke from her meditation, her heart thumped so hard that she thought it would jump out of her body. She looked up and saw the source of the intruding voice. She wished she hadn’t looked for his appearance sent chills throughout her body. The man was smiling but his eyes did not follow the smile. It remained impassive and it was light grey, reminding her of a cruel cold winter night.

“What happened to your hands?” he repeated with that same cutting voice. His icy gaze threatened Caroline to tell the truth.

“I.. wanted to open the basement door.” Caroline hated the fragility in her voice. At least she could speak. She hoped there was a way to convince him to let her go. Perhaps she could offer some of her dad’s vast wealth, sometimes all they wanted was money.

The dark-haired man stopped smiling though his other facial features remained unmoved. It wasn’t natural. “Now, why would you do that you silly girl? I provided everything for you down here.”

Caroline looked at him with disbelief. Was he really asking why the girl he kidnapped tried to escape? Did she understand that right? What answer was he expecting her to give? It was a loss-loss situation. “I don’t understand,” she admitted simply, feeling that it was the safest answer.

“Why the hell would you leave your husband?” her kidnapper shot back coolly. Though there was an undertone of anger daring to crack that icy exterior, she had to tread lightly.

Wide-open ocean eyes glanced at his rough hands, and sure enough, there was a white gold ring wrapped around his wedding finger. It looked brand new to Caroline. She put forth her bruised hands and fingers to indicate the absence of a ring on her part. The man’s face remained expressionless. Her mouth did not speak, hoping he understood the silent subtext she was giving: they were not married. And she would never date someone like him in the first place. He wasn’t even her type look-wise. He had a coldness and rigidness to him that she found so off-putting. She also guessed he was in his mid-thirties- more than a decade older than her. The age difference was, simply, too much.

However, instead of questioning the validity of the marriage, he steered another direction: “I don’t like to see imperfections on my little flower.” He pointed to her messed up fingers. Then, that same unsettling lipped smile formed on his face. “Given the circumstance though….I’ll forgive you, cutie. You can pay me back for this mercy tonight.” His eyes roamed her body, making her feel so vulnerable. A vulnerability that was new to her. A vulnerability that made her feel impure.

Caroline sprung from her seat and took a few steps back. “Please, let’s not play these mind games. My dad is rich. He can give you money if you just let me go.”

“I don’t want or need money.”

“My dad says that everyone has a price.”

“True, but the value of a beautiful wife is immeasurable. You’re not going anywhere, _Cara.”_

 _Cara_. It was what her closest friends called her. It was what Alec called her. Her nickname on his lips felt so wrong. How did he…

“You must be thirsty.” The tall man interrupted her thoughts as he walked to the dining table, where two brown bags of groceries were placed. He took out a premium iced tea with a mix of lemon-strawberry and offered it to her. “Your favorite.”

It was true, it was her favorite non-alcoholic drink- the correct brand and the correct flavour. He had stalked her; he’d for sure stalked her. There was no doubt about it now. She wasn’t just some random girl he decided to prey on. How long did he plan this out? 

She moved away until her back hit the cold wall- she wished it would swallow her and take her away. The corners of his lip twitched, at least for a second, though it was hard to be certain with how fast he recovered his composure. 

The man placed the glass bottle on the coffee table with a shrug, _seemingly_ not bothered by the rejection of the gift. “Suit yourself. You will come around one way or another. But don’t say I'm an uncaring husband. If only you weren’t so damn ungrateful.” He turned on his heel, then moved the groceries from the dining table to the kitchen, and all Caroline could do was watch with petrified eyes- not knowing what his next move was going to be. The man was too unpredictable and that uncertainty made it all the worse. 

As her back was against the wall, a dull sensation poked her behind. Her cellphone...Yes, she’d pocketed her cellphone from before! If she could find a way to charge it up, then she could call Alec and the police. If he was pretending delusion to manipulate her or if he really was deluded, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was she needed to get out of here. Fast. 

“There are two steaks and ingredients for a small salad in the bags," he said, walking back to the living room. "Everything you need for cooking is already in the kitchen. Be a good, dutiful wife and cook for us.” When he smiled, it was a warning. As if to say his patience was running thin. He'd given her a command, not an ask. “I’ll head back down in an hour, and I except it plated and on the dining table by then.” With that, he climbed the stairs and when Caroline heard the thud of the heavy door, a sigh of relief escaped her.

She looked at the wooden clock across from her, feeling precious time slipping away by the ominousness ticks of the clock- her whole destiny was going to be determined by what she did in the next hour. She couldn’t afford self-pity right now. She'd to take action if she wanted to see another sunrise. If she wanted to see Alec's beautiful face again..

_She will not be a prisoner to this deranged man._


	3. Of Desperate Plans

Caroline didn’t show up to Psychology 101- nor did she give indications of her presence on social media. Was Adanna overly paranoid? Perhaps, but it came with being the Police Chief’s daughter.

Ada texted her friend exactly five times and called exactly three times. On the calls, not only did she not get an answerback, but she was told the service was unavailable. As if the phone was turned off. It was beyond strange. If she knew anything about college students it was they couldn’t survive without their phones for too long- that included Ada of course.

Thin rich-dark fingers tightened around her mango-coloured phone, as if putting pressure on it would somehow make the phone ring. Yet, silence. Mocking silence.

She pushed her chair back and stood up, discontent with waiting around, then grabbed her trusty leather jacket as she made her way out of the dorms- her long braids sweeping behind her while she walked with a slight quickness. The students chatted and mingled outside. Ada picked up a conversation here and there, always on the alert, but it was filler so she cast it out of memory. Still, it was good practice to be attentive.

Voices dulled as Adanna walked further away from the crowds. Now, only leaving her thoughts to ponder over. She padded her jacket until she came across her cigarette pack. Taking a lighter from her jeans pocket, she then took out a cig and lit it up. She could almost hear Cara’s light voice reprimanding Ada for her smoking habits. Adanna was smart but that didn’t mean she didn’t succumb to vices. In this case, the nicotine helped her think and distress. Cara preferred meditation. Meditation was useless to Adanna though Cara was a firm believer in it.

She and Caroline were, personality-wise, quite different, and it’s a wonder how they became good friends. Adanna didn’t trust intuition, nor did she believe in psychic ability. She only saw grounded logic and the harshness of reality. In a way, she was forced to. On a windy, moonless night, eleven years ago, a wife of a criminal hellbent on revenge shot her parents. The rumour was that she was furious at Detective Fred Davies for arresting her husband and wished to avenge him. Three bullets shot. One miss. Two hits. Two bodies on the ground, one of them her mother’s. Adanna never forgave herself for cowering under the table that night. Her mother’s haunted screams were scorched fresh in her mind, a tattoo in the memories that will never be erased. Ada was a coward back then, and she promised she will never be one again.

Cara was brave. In her own way. And Ada highly respected that. A soft-spoken young blonde with graceful mannerism was hardly imposing. But, it was the inner strength that counted, Ada came to realize. You can act all tough and believe speaking loud and crass shows courage, but true bravery is shown at gunpoint.

What Adanna came to realize about Caroline, as they spent more time with each other, was that her appearance didn’t match her true self. She was a rebel through and through despite presenting an image of a docile young woman. She rebelled against her family, against the society she was bought up in, and against her haughty upper-class father. Not through words but through action.

Cara would say she didn’t hate her dad but that he just needed time to accept Alec. Frankly, Ada thought that was bullshit, but it was an opinion she seldom spoke out loud. To Ada, Mr. Jones was not a nice man and couldn’t be reasoned with. How such a kind soul came out of _that_ was a mystery for the ages. Though, sometimes, Ada worried that Caroline’s infuriation with her boyfriend was borderline escapism- to the point that Cara failed to grasp reality or purposely chose to ignore it… 

If Mr. Jones disliked Ada’s family, it was nothing compared to the abhorrence she’d seen in his eyes for Alec’s family and kind.

She took a detour through the woods, glad she wore her hiking boots for this shortcut. A few minutes later as the large trees faded, a green-and-white ten-story girl’s dormitory appeared. A mid-range living quarters that was far below the life Caroline was used to, but it was by choice that her friend lived this way,

Floor Nine. Door Seven. She knocked three times on the dorm door and was greeted with Cara’s short brown-haired roommate.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Kala. Is Cara home?”

“Nope.”

Ada frowned. Cellphone off, no updates in her social media accounts, skipping every class, and not coming home on a school day? It… just wasn’t Caroline. Strange indeed. “Did you see her at all today?”

Kala shook her head with a resounding no. Then snapped her fingers. “Ooooh she might be with that boy again. The one who looks like he jumped out of a super erotic royalty novel. Do you think they did it last-”

Ugh. Ada faded out everything else Kala said. Cara’s talkative roommate wasn’t taking this seriously. Yes, Alec was cute and Cara was one lucky gal, Ada admitted; but, talking about cute boys wasn’t why Adanna came here.

She said her goodbyes to Kala, lying about how she had a huge essay due tomorrow to escape the unstoppable monologue.

Time to contact Alec.

*******

_She will not be a prisoner to this deranged man._

Sitting on the hard, bright wood floor, the disgruntled abductee spent the last ten minutes trying to calm her racing heart. She wondered what Alec was doing right now, if danger alarms were ringing at her absence. She smiled inwardly, knowing that if Alec did know what she was going through and how her kidnapper stalked her, that idiot would be dead before he knew it.

Caroline gasped at the dark thought. She’d never imagined death on anyone, not even on her dad when he tried to make her stop seeing Alec. It had to be a survival instinct, not really her own desires, she rationalized. 

Indeed, something was not right about this whole situation and she wasn’t talking about the kidnapping act alone; Caroline came from an influential family, anyone in their right mind would know the reward was not worth the risk. Plus, the man refused money and that’s the only reason why someone like her would be kidnapped. Her powerful father could ruin this mysterious man’s life in many ways, yet the man did not show any signs of fear. Without a doubt, he knew who she was, so he must know who her father was. Caroline shook her head, realizing she was wasting precious time trying to psychoanalyze a man who was clearly not sane.

She brought her phone out, her eyes thinning at the black screen. How in the world would she power this thing without a charger? There were electric plugs in the basement and if she could somehow find a way to guide that current to her phone…. But how would she even start with that? Cara had zero knowledge of technology and engineering, aside from what most college students knew, and she questioned there would be a conventional charger just laying around here. However, she was desperate for anything, turning on this phone was her only way out, so she scavenged the basement.

A while later, she came back to the living room with only her phone in hand and frustrated disappointment plastered on her face. Out of no other real options, she started shaking the phone, hoping it would somehow turn on. Luck was not on her side on this day.

She put the phone back in her pocket, feeling out of her depth. Turning the phone back on was wishful thinking, at least for now. She looked at that dreadful clock, thirty minutes before he showed again. How time flies by…

He told her to cook…of course, she was not going to give in to that inane demand, but it made her believe there was something in that idea. Perhaps, she could poison the food… not enough to kill him but just make him sick.

She went back to the kitchen. A few cabinets lined the square room, and a steel refrigerator stood on the left wall. There was also a coffee maker, an oven, a stove, and a microwave in the room. The man wasn’t kidding when he said she had everything for cooking down here. She was about to walk towards the small sitting table, where the man put the groceries. But, she stopped midway, distracted by a bright light in the corner of her eye. The moonlight steel of the chef’s knife gleamed with striking energy, like a holy grail calling her to use it. Change of plans, she thought. 

She displaced the chef’s knife from its wooden knife box- it made a hard clatter as it was unsheathed. With her left hand, she made a few swishing motions in the air as she tried to get a feel for the weapon. The knife was light and nimble, yet, it felt powerful. The tip of the knife was very sharp, so she thought it was best to employ a stabbing technique if her kidnapper came too close. Content with her newfound plan, she hid herself behind the kitchen wall and waited.

Her heart thumped in her ears, and she felt an ever-growing anxiety with each passing minute. It felt like the more it approached the hour, the less confident she felt, the looser the weapon in her hand became. There was this lingering fear that she could stab at a vital point and kill the man in the process. Despite the dangers the man possessed, she wouldn’t want him to die. She was no killer.

The basement door opened in a forbidding sound. She shivered though there was no drop in temperature. Footsteps slowly descended the stairs, and each creak of the steps made her hold on the steely handle of the weapon tighten. There was this inner fire she felt, blazing anew- heightening her courage. _I can do this._

Through the kitchen walls, she heard the man stop. There was a prolonged period of uncomfortable silence that felt like an eternity. Only the ever-ticking of the clock could be heard. 

Then, Caroline heard him walk around with measured steps and stopping where she assumed the dining table was. The man was thinking, analyzing the situation. After a while, footsteps approached the kitchen. Her lungs felt tight, she almost forgot to breathe.

She turned around and plunged the knife with as much force as she could muster.

But, his scream never came. Caroline looked on in horror.

The knife didn’t even pierce his white shirt. Instead, Cara’s wrist was held by his strong hurtful grip. The weapon remained still, just a few inches from his heart- daring to slice through but unable to. 

She looked up.

She never knew a human’s eyes could look so monstrous. 


	4. Rose Tinted Glasses

The knife clattered against the kitchen floor. There was no twist on Caroline's wrist. The fear itself was enough.

The man’s eyes twinkled with maddening malice, petrifying her body. He was smiling, a cruel smile.

He bent down and picked up the knife. Without a word, he put the knife back in Caroline’s palm and closed her fingers around it. She flinched at the distant, coldness of the touch and wondered if those cold-blooded hands had ever taken a life. Her intuition said yes, and it felt personal.

He took a step back and looked down at her with no apparent fear. Then, put up his arms in a gesture of surrender. Paradoxically, he just looked more domineering. “Are you a killer, Cara? I wonder what Alec would say…. When he sees his angel with blood on her hands.” His sharp tone was cold and controlled, with a hint of mischievousness.

“D- on’t say his his name!” Cara hissed. The shakiness vibrated in her voice, despite her best attempts to drown it. She was insulted at the utterance of Alec, not Cara . He had no right to speak such a sacred name.

But the man only smirked in response, finding her anger nothing more than an amusement. “Emotional like a typical woman. A woman and a wife who will learn her proper place. But before we do that, I wonder…” He nodded towards the knife in her hand. “See, _Cara_ , I know you’re no killer. Disobedient? Yes. But, taking a life takes guts, and you have none.” Caroline's lips trembled. In his twisted mind, he saw murdering as a virtue.“There is a very slim possibility that I’m wrong so let’s test that: “You have ten seconds to kill a defenseless man. Can you do it, Cara? Be more than just a harmless little _bunny_?”

The way he stressed bunny was vile, husky, and primal; Cara blocked it out of memory as soon as it left his tongue.“I am not playing your absurd games.”

But, the persistent man ignored that, and started counting down: “Ten. Make your decision, Cara.”

“I..”

“Eight."

She looked for any signs of trickery. But, like always, his face remained a challenge to read. A face with dozens of unworldly masks. He would be a great actor, if his eyes did not betray the act.

His cold grey eyes, when they broke the veneer of impassivity, told the truth. It wasn’t any material, biological dissertation or scientific analysis that Caroline came to the conclusions- but the intuitive feeling as she looked through the windows of the soul. Right now, his eyes, his being, looked bored with a slight cockiness- like they foresaw the outcome of Caroline’s decision. His eyes never showed any warmth, but only a promise of a harsh winter season.

Yet, when she observed him as a whole, away from the eerie eyes, he did not have horns growing out of his head, nor dark wings that covered the whole room. _He was human_. A mundane human you would see on the streets. Killing him would be taking life like her’s, and Caroline could not live with that.

“Three.”

She would not see Alec's pleasant face again. Her kidnapper was not intent on letting her go. Alec was the only reason she got out of bed. Alec gave her freedom and respect fit for a queen, but that only made her more wanting, clingy of his love. Without him, she was a one-winged dove- misguided through her journey of life. She just needed a mere second of distraction to escape. A tear trickled down her face, knowing what she was about to do was insanley risky. No, Alec needed her to be strong! To get out of here, so they could be reunited as destiny told. She held the knife with the courage of a warrior-queen and the precision of a surgeon- feeling Alec's spirit empower her. 

“One..”

“You did a bad job of stalking me.” Caroline went on her toes and slashed the kidnapper’s cheek in a shallow sweeping motion. He stood still, as the skin from the left cheekbone to the corner of his lip tore open- his pupils widened in surprise in a rare moment of shock. With a pained grunt and downward tilt of the head, he pressed a hand on the wound. She ran past him and did not look back.

A deep shout almost halted her heart. A shout that could only come from a man who lost his sanity long ago. The stairs felt slippery, the walls were closing in, and a dark filter possessed her perception. It all felt so surreal.

The basement door was open, cementing the fact that he underestimated her. She ran out with the knife still in hand.

She turned her head both directions, desperate for some way out of this hell. The first floor did not indicate that its owner was deranged, and a man who preyed on innocent girls. She had no time to dwell on the neat organization and the expensive refined decorations of the open kitchen and living room, but she knew that if the police came to look for her, they would never think of him as a lunatic. It did an excellent job of hiding its owner’s insanity- just like his masks.

To her left, there was a vast white double-door with richly stained glass on its top area. By its size, the entrance door indeed.

The heavy hastened footsteps upon the stairs caused an awful fast rhythm as its creaks sang an omen of promised pain.

“HELP! HELP!” Caroline shouted so loud and with such intensity that she wondered if there was any of her voice left. She hoped there was a neighbor to hear her. She could make out the green and white lights of grass, and trees through the shimmering glasses, but no further. Her hand pressed down on the handle, almost there…

Suddenly, two arms wrapped around her body with constriction of a snake. The inhumanly tight hold made her unable to scream or breathe, as they pressed down on her diaphragm with no mercy. The knife dropped out of her hand and out of sight while she gasped for breath. Blood rained down to her bare shoulder from her doing, and they somehow burned- droplet by droplet. A rain from hell.

He called her a whore, a cunt and ungrateful whores deserved the worst. She slammed against the wall. And again, and again. She never knew a man could treat a woman this way, and that made it all the worse.

Cara hit the wall three times, almost going unconscious the third time. He picked her up with little care to her comfort. Then, her prison door closed once more. Her body hurled with vindication upon the basement floor, as her left ankle sprained from the harsh drop. The man moved closer to her. He was far from done.

“ _Please… let… me.. go._ ” Caroline sobbed the words out.

The man kicked her sprained ankle in response, causing a hoarse scream to tear from her throat. She was sure she had lost her voice. The untreated wound continued dropping scorching tears on her and the white carpet. “You’re a stupid _bitch_. I feel sorry. Almost.”

A fire surged through her nerves. She had a difficult time focusing on his words. Though she could tell by the harshness of a particular word, he thought of her as less than human. The blood in her mouth tasted metallic.

He got on top of her, and Cara could do little but let him- for her screaming ankle continued the torment. She felt violated as his unwanted weight settled on her, fixing the blonde in place and leaving a small wriggle room. He started hitting her. Hitting her…

_A prince and princess dined in a balcony on top of the hill. The prince was good to the princess. He would never hurt a hair on her, and he would kill himself if he did. They were enjoying a lavish meal, but in a utopia where nobody went hungry or poor so that their act was not in vain. The prince said: “you would never know fear, not until I’m around.” The princess smiled, knowing she was living the perfect life. She returned the compliment: “And you would never know heartbreak, not until I’m around.” A bone cracked. Black holes scorched the image. With every punishment, every newfound pain, the holes were larger, and larger. Until Cara could see that image no longer, turned into ashes and lost in time. What a foolish fantasy she had …._

She observed her body from afar. Slaps and punches made their distinct red, yellow, and black markings on the body. The blood dripping from the abuser’s cheek, and falling from his jaw added further red. Its crimson colour prominent against her pale skin. Caroline could barley stomach the scene, and she felt a sense of loss for the girl.

The man, between the hits, yelled that she was a coward who did not have the guts to kill him, nor was she a proper lady to refrain. The girl pleaded with him in the language of hysterical cries to stop. To please find mercy deep in his heart. 

The Monster looked on with two vacant windows and justified himself to a mad judge: Women who didn’t act like a lady had no immunity. She ruined her chance at a happy existence. Either he died, or she molded into a vase of his liking. Freedom was not an option. This was the verdict in his court of madness.

Her dissociation ended, and she could feel every inch of bruise and blood across her tattered body. The mere second of the excruciating pain convinced her she’d never known happiness. She’d never known Alec. The dark long thorns grabbed her, pulling Cara into the bottomless pits of unconsciousness in an act of mercy.


End file.
